


Two Ships in the Night

by glamorouspixels



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Best Friends, Drinking, Established Phrack, F/F, F/M, Female Friendship, Flirting, Fluff, Protectiveness, also sleepy jack, everybody loves mac, featuring fluffy phrack, supportive phryne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26319253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glamorouspixels/pseuds/glamorouspixels
Summary: Mac has been brooding over her ex-girlfriend, but Phryne is there to cheer her up...whether she likes it or not.
Relationships: Elizabeth MacMillan/Original Female Character(s), Phryne Fisher & Elizabeth MacMillan, Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson
Comments: 19
Kudos: 86





	Two Ships in the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acrazyobsession](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrazyobsession/gifts).



> I'm just…going to leave this here. The title is from _Capsized_ by P!nk and Dallas Green (although it's more of a stupid pun in this case), and shoutout to Scruggzi and batard_loaf for being incredible beta readers <3

Mac was thinking about diving head-first into her glass of whiskey when the song ended and a louder tune picked up, which Phryne took as cue to start speaking, her words lost in the cacophony. Realizing this, she took a sip of her own drink, a molten-honey concoction with a single cherry bejeweling the bottom of the glass. Where Mac’s legs were stiff as a plank beneath the table, Phryne was chirpy, with drunken glee not far down the line. She leaned in closer, apparently determined to be heard.

“Have you seen this one?” Mac winced; her friend’s habit of shouting nonsense down her ear, her moist lips a seal against the swelling voices, had lost its charm after their teenage years.

“The one in red, the dancing one?” Striking amidst the sea of bodies, a long-limbed woman moved effortlessly, her heart marching to the beat of the music. “She wouldn’t like me,” Mac concluded the matter breezily.

“Dancing is what you do at a nightclub, Mac,” admonished Phryne. She let her eyes sweep the gathered guests with ease, all of them women and many intertwined or stealing kisses, and it made her long for the high of the party. And then, there was Mac, who remained stock-still as though her trousers had been glued to the plush seat of the couch. “Unless, of course, you’re brooding,” Phryne suggested and turned back to Mac, whose face resembled a gathering storm.

Mac only moved after having her shoulder nefariously poked. “I’m not,” she muttered under her breath and let a sip of whiskey chase the words; perhaps she could drown the smirk that was trying to emerge.

“And besides,” continued Phryne, deciding it wasn’t yet time to call the night a failure, “what isn’t there to like about you?” There was a theatrical pause as she took her in. “You’re funny, brilliant, and simply _stunning_ in that new suit of yours. One of the best women this world ever will see.”

“Should I let Jack know to pack his bags?” Mac huffed, watching in suspicion as Phryne eyed her drunkenly. A harsh beam of light cascaded on their booth, revealing careful humor dancing in Mac’s eyes. She was nearly shocked, although she shouldn’t have been, that Phryne’s sole response was an artless wink that had no right to make her skin glow so fiercely, and back she went to gazing at the smiling faces all around.

It was with flaming cheeks and admiration tugging at her heart that Mac next eyed Phryne, who seemed to thrive amidst the sapphic women and cared not in the least that her best friend was one of them. That much, Phryne’s freight-train appearance at her flat had made clear. What should have been a peaceful dinner, she’d made into a celebration, hauling Mac through the door by the cuff of the suit she’d quickly donned and ordering that aggressively orange cocktail of hers.

Which brought them here, where Phryne had already found another victim. She had decided that Mac needed some fun; it was nearly three weeks after the woman she’d been seeing had left for her new life in Sydney, and Phryne seemed determined to remind her that there was more to life than working and moping.

“Well, what do you think of _her_?” Phryne asked, the pitch of her voice dropping. Mac was more familiar than she wanted to be with Phryne’s looks of want, but the open-mouthed wonder she could see now was surprising. Mac searched the room, blinking until convinced that the woman she was seeing was real and not a copy of Phryne that her mind had conjured up.

“No, thank you,” she decided at once. The woman was tall, within walking distance of their booth, and in a backless dress that rivaled Phryne’s own, her cap of bobbed raven hair reflecting the lights above.

“Well, _I_ like her.” Yes, Mac could tell. The two traded smiles, though Phryne’s maintained a certain shyness. Mac prayed for the music to wash out her groan and hoped that the couch would swallow her whole; it was just like Phryne, who’d lost interest in wooing women after an experimental fling or two, to be unable to take her eyes off the almost carnal movements of her lookalike on the dancefloor.

Mac sighed, setting down her glass with one sip still in it, which she intended to save for more desperate times. “Go ahead,” she dryly encouraged. “One of you’s more than enough for me.”

There was hardly time to let out a gasp as Phryne’s arms wrapped around her, and she planted a sloppy, peach-scented kiss on Mac’s head. “Love you, too,” muttered Phryne with her lips still in place, her small frame making the tightness of her squeeze astounding.

As she wriggled as far away as the tiny half-moon booth allowed, Mac felt her lips want to curl into a smile. “Not here!” She warned, side-eyeing her friend in a way that she couldn’t help but laugh at.

An arm’s length away from Phryne, Mac felt her muscles loosen as she scanned the room. Observing the couples and their private smiles caused her heart to swell, and her best friend beside her was a reassuring warmth. However, it wasn’t long before Phryne stirred, for her interest in this mission far exceeded Mac’s.

“Mac!” Nearly knocking down her glass, she perked up visibly.

“Mmmh?”

“That woman over there, the lovely one, with the midnight-blue and silver gown and the wavy hair?” The lights darkened to a greyish muddle just then, making following her directions that much harder. “No, look a little more to the left – _discreetly_ , Mac! – she’s been keeping an eye on you all evening.”

A woman fitting that general description popped out of a group like she’d been summoned, braving the giddy dark with four pairs of eyes fixed on her back. Mac was instantly caught up; the woman’s hair was of a deep chestnut with some strands flaming red. Her posture was sure and graceful as she moved, her face round with soft cheeks and lips that seemed to always hold the shadow of a smile.

In short, Mac had better discard the thought that she was coming for her. “She’s not been _watching_ me,” she said after taking her final sip of whiskey, though not without a twinge of hope that the opposite was true.

“No, she has! I think she’s coming over!” She was, despite Mac’s best attempts to deny it; more surprisingly, she didn’t make for Phryne’s side of the booth. 

“Go! You can’t make advances with me in the booth!”

An innocent grin plumped Phryne’s cheeks, and it didn’t leave even as Mac surrendered. She released her glass, its cold bite in her hand instantly missed, and fixed her friend with a look as if deciding which of her surgical tools to use to exact revenge. She indulged in self-pity for a moment before turning to the woman a meter away.

Phryne squared her shoulders against the backrest, her heart expanding as Mac did the same unknowingly. Mac’s copper hair obscured the other woman, who was shorter than Mac by an inch or two, and the music kept Phryne from understanding any words. As the two strode off into the action, she took a sip of her drink and rolled it on her tongue.

Mac appeared hesitant at first but came into blossom, letting herself be led towards the woman’s small group. One of the women, a fair-haired one, smiled at Phryne before her eyes too settled on Mac, a sight that had Phryne’s heart in a pleasant twist.

It wasn’t long before Mac, who at first threw warm if mildly sheepish glances at Phryne, went entire songs without a look over her shoulder. After many long minutes, which Phryne spent looking contentedly around, Mac called for drinks for the group and raised her newly acquired glass in her friend’s direction. She fondly shook her head as Phryne pumped her fist in triumph, looking for a way to let her happiness out.

“Do you want me to go?” Phryne mouthed after knocking back the rest of her cocktail, earning a stare of bewilderment from Mac. “Leave!” She tried again, pointing first at herself, proceeding to jerk her head in the vague direction of the door. Her brows unfurrowing, Mac nodded her assent; that her brown-haired friend watched with wonder in her eyes, only Phryne could see.

She went to pay for the entire group’s drinks, glad to have witnessed the twinkle in Mac’s eyes. Her fur wrap was butterfly-soft as she laid it on her shoulders, tugging it close against the chill of the night.

Something told her to turn around once more, and she saw the five women smiling with one of the most amazing friends she’d ever had, the one who’d called Mac over going so far as to beam at her. Phryne then made the moon her escort down the deserted street, still slightly smiling when Jack’s car came into view, exactly where he’d said to expect him. Quiet laughter rang out behind her, and she spotted the silhouettes of two women folded in a tight embrace.

As early as lunchtime, she’d watched Jack’s eyelids droop with sleep; but he’d insisted on picking her up, and his tiny kisses had been an easy bribe. It didn’t surprise her that she found him sleeping, an upside-down book like a blanket in his lap. He’d found the single lit-up spot amidst the darkness and parked his car underneath a streetlamp, the light of which bathed him in a glow so soft that Phryne had to spend a moment gaping.

She stood and stared, taken with his tranquil mouth, soft as a pillow with the tension of consciousness removed, and the squish of his cheek against the headrest. How tired he must have been to nod off like this. Phryne had to fight the urge to just get in and drape her fur wrap over him, wanting the moon to keep watch as the two of them slept. The cool air pinking her cheeks, she knocked softly on the side of his car instead.

“Jack!”

“Wh-” After the initial shock, a moment in which he first jumped, then winced as he rammed his knees into the steering wheel and breathed a prayer of thanks for the padding of the headrest, his body relaxed instantaneously. “Oh, it’s only you,” he murmured, his voice fighting against the gruffness of sleep.

“I _am_ sorry to disappoint.” Phryne swung herself into the passenger seat, turning Jack’s head this way and that until content that his abrupt contact with the headrest had left no mark. When she cupped his cheek and pulled him close to kiss him, she was caught off guard by his penetrating gaze.

Phryne moaned and softly shuddered at the feel of his tongue drifting past her lips, aware of the moment he identified something new mixed in with the taste he knew by heart. “Mmmh, you taste good,” commented Jack, going back for more of the peachy flavor of the cocktail on her tongue. She happily let him; nothing relaxed her like sharing kisses, little sweeps of their tongues to brush away the day. 

“Did you achieve what you set out to do?” He asked eventually, reluctant to break away.

“I did,” she said, pressing her forehead against his, and Jack ached when he felt her grinning. “Mac has been supplied with a brunette beauty. They appeared to be quite hung up on one another by the time I left, so much so that I couldn’t say for sure my departure was noticed!” She thought back to Mac and that honest smile she saw so rarely, every display of it a gift.

“And you?” Jack couldn’t seem to stop touching her and traced a finger along the seam of her lips. “Any new contenders for your affections?”

As he moved to dab at a smudge in her make-up, she closed her eyes and allowed fatigue to settle in. “Maybe one or two,” Phryne waved him off. “Take me home?” She may not have spent the day amidst stockpiled case files, but it had been a long night and she could still feel the throb of the music down to her bones. What she wanted now was Jack’s warm body, being in his arms at the forefront of her mind.

When he laid his hand on the steering wheel, Phryne’s slender fingers snuck inside his other sleeve and played in tiny circles over the skin of his wrist. And as she wrapped herself around him, there was nothing he could do but accept his fate. She’d decided that his arm was hers to cuddle, appointing it to bear her entire weight.

“I should encourage these sapphic adventures more often,” Jack said, surprised to find her truly exhausted. She really was tempting; the thought of her body, curled against his as they peacefully slept, even made him consider speeding.

“Next time, I might just ask you to come along.” Her cheek rubbed against his shoulder, and he vowed to give her everything she wanted. “I wonder, Jack… What do you say to a double date? We do need to ensure that Mac’s well cared for.”

Well, _almost_ everything. He nearly laughed at the mere suggestion, which was no doubt reasonable in Phryne’s mind. “And does Dr. MacMillan get a say on the matter?” Jack asked carefully, not sure how many steps Phryne was ahead.

“She’s just going to have to cope,” Phryne mumbled, beginning to grow heavy against his side.

As she changed her position slightly, he didn’t miss the approving glance Phryne shot a woman who could have passed as her twin, strolling down the street with a partner in a beautiful beaded dress on her arm. The two bumped shoulders, pausing every so often to laugh or kiss, and Jack hoped their hearts felt as warm as his.

He brushed his lips over Phryne’s hair, smiling as he set his car in motion. He’d have to make sure to ask her about Mac’s new friend in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> This is...basically a repackaged version of my own experience. I had a pretty shit time growing up gay. Things were fine on the surface, but it was generally agreed upon at school that you weren't supposed to make queerness an obvious part of your identity. Or mention it. Ever. I did absolutely nothing to hide it, mostly because I wasn't close with any of my classmates. But if I wanted someone to be my friend, I would hold back so as not to annoy them about it. That only changed last year, both when I started university and because of the fandom people I met. It blows my mind to this day that I have friends who don't mind, and I guess this fic is a love letter to that 😂 Thank you for reading, especially if you sat through this emotional note as well <3


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